


Deal with the Devil

by Coffeebles



Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Deal With the Devil, Gen, cuphead the musical, well kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 07:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffeebles/pseuds/Coffeebles
Summary: What would you do to find what you've been looking for?





	Deal with the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a prompt sent to starridge on tumblr, plus what anna themselves added on. this is my first time writing devil!mark so sorry if i messed it up aaaaaaa

When Wilford learned the value of his soul was high enough to pay for anything he desired, he knew what he would buy with it.

The door to the Devil’s throne room was heavier than Wilford had expected. He had to put some muscle in to keep it from swinging back and hitting him onto the floor. As he stepped into the room, the door slammed loudly behind him. His heart dropped into his stomach, filling him with a sinking feeling.

Flames circled the space. They flickered with passion and spread embers through the air. Beneath Wilford’s feet was shining black and white tile that seemed to have been cleaned recently. A throne sat against the back wall. It was the first thing his eyes went to, as he expected was the point.

The Devil himself sat on the throne. He looked just like all of them; he looked like Mark. Only he had pointed horns arching from the sides of his head, and his eyes were a glowing yellow. Both his teeth and ears were pointed and sharp. A suit clung to his figure, with fur adorning his shoulders.

“Wilford Warfstache,” he said, his voice lustful and smooth, with a burning hiss slipping into his words. “What brings someone such as yourself here?”

Wilford swallowed hard. “I’m here to make a contract.”

(He didn’t know that Dark had already broken in.)

The Devil gave an over exaggerated gasp. “ _The_ Wilford Warfstache? Making a deal with me?” He rested his face in his hand, his elbow propped up on the throne arm. “I’m touched.”

Despite Wilford’s stoic expression, sweat was pooling on his palms. He curled his hands into fists, but that did not stop them from shaking.

“If I give you my soul, I can have anything?” he asked.

“Essentially, yes,” the Devil hummed. “There are consequences, though.”

“I’m well aware of what those are.”

“So you did your research?” The Devil ran a finger along his pitchfork, eyeing it with near heart eyes. “You must be serious about this, then.” He stroked his chin. “Though, what could you want so badly that would push you to such great lengths? You can already break the laws of reality.”

(He heard Dark coming down the stairs.)

Wilford forced his gaze onto the Devil, even though he desperately wanted to tear it away. Every time his eyes met those of the Devil’s, his insides were set on fire. It was not painful, rather it pumped his adrenaline and drove him to the brink of insanity. It made him want to scream, or curl up into a ball so he did not have to look. If he was serious about this, though, he could not give into his fear.

He took a deep breath. “I want Damien and Celine back.”

The Devil’s head tilted to the side. “Damien and Celine?” His eyes went wide, and he grinned. “Ah yes, I do recall the traumatic experiences you were put through.”

Tears balled in the back of Wilford’s throat. He held them back, but his voice still wavered. “I’ve been searching for them for so long. No matter what I do, though, they’re always hiding from me. At the very least, I want to know where they are, so I can find them.”

(Dark was almost there now.)

“And you’re sure about this?” the Devil asked.

Wilford nodded, and the Devil lifted his pitchfork. “Very well then,” he said.

With the wave of a hand, a contract appeared in front of Wilford. Even when he squinted his eyes, he could not read what the fine print said.

“Sign this contract, and you will meet with Damien and Celine once more,” the Devil said, twirling his pitchfork.

It came to Wilford’s attention that he was now holding a feather pen. There had to be a catch he had yet to find out about. That was always how these deals went. If he got to see Damien and Celine again, though, did it really matter what else happened?

Just as the tip of his pen touched the paper, the doors were thrown open with a loud crash. Wilford spun around to see Dark in the entryway. Dark’s hair was in a tangled heap, odds and ends standing out. His suit was covered with dirt stains and rips in the fabric, and his tie was nowhere to be seen. He glanced at Wilford, then the Devil, his aura flickering with red and blue.

The Devil smiled. “There they are.”

Wilford looked at Dark with the expression of a lost child. “Dark?” His voice barely came out in a whisper.

For a moment, Dark glanced at Wilford with a frown. His eyes gleamed with something familiar. Wilford would never put his finger on what it was, as Dark’s expression melted back into a scowl before Wilford could take a closer look. Dark glared daggers at the Devil.

“What did you plan to do,” he said, “rip me in half?”

The Devil laughed. “Of course not. Why would I double the load when I can get the two-in-one package?” He motioned to Dark with his pitchfork.

A low growl rose from Dark’s throat. “Now I see what you were trying to do,” he muttered under his breath.

Just as Wilford opened his mouth to speak, Dark grasped his wrist. His nails dug into Wilford’s tender skin, causing the man to wince.

“I apologize, but no contract is going to be signed today,” Dark said, dragging Wilford towards the exit.

A frown graced the Devil’s lips. “Someday,” he called to Wilford, “you’re going to realize what you want is right in front of you.”

“What does he mean?” Wilford asked.

Dark gritted his teeth. “Nothing,” he hissed. “He’s trying to mess with you.”

Wilford and the Devil met eyes one last time before the door slammed behind him.

The Devil was left alone in solitude. The only sound was that of the dancing flames surrounding him, crackling and wheezing. He wore a blank expression as he stared towards where the leaders had left.

“Huh,” he said. “How ironic.” He leaned against the arm of the throne. “I wonder how long he can keep this going.”


End file.
